Madheads Are From Mercury
by BrutieBoots
Summary: They always say women are from Venus but Desdemona might be from an entirely different planet. Starting her sixth year in the most devastating and absolutely pants situation, her friends and her have way more important things to care about-like the Slytherin brats getting a little too close for comfort-than drama, pranksters and love. Well, at least for the most part.
1. Prologue, Desdemona

_Author's Note: _So new story, woo! I'm putting the rating as T for now, but I might bump it to M for language. I mean the language I'm using is language I usually use, but I'm 19 so it's hard for me to gage what is appropriate. xD Words like prat, tosser, bollocks, etc I don't consider _that _rude but I'm not sure where certain profanity goes on the rating scale. Ah well, I guess we'll wait and see.

* * *

_**Harry Potter fanfiction**_

_**MADHEADS ARE FROM MERCURY**_

* * *

**PROLOGUE**

**DESDEMONA**

* * *

Streaks of rose and sunshine yellow highlight the violet sky with sapphire and aquamarine gems splattered here and there. Colours swirl together into a mismatch landscape that makes Monet grin in his grave. Mahogany tables unfold and walls bubble up around me, glittering gold and succulent snacks dancing through the air like waltzing wisps. I snatch at them but the drifters evade my wriggling fingers, flitting to other patrons. I curse and frown, itching to lob a Chinese throwing star at those little teases.

"Welcome one and all to another year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Now I'd like you all to give your full attention to your new Headmaster!"

I ignore the disembodied voice as I try to stab at the floating food with my fork. I won't be beaten by seemingly possessed poultry. I grab a knife and narrow my eyes, silently hoping a death stare will paralyse the cuisine. Failing that, I strike fast. The knife plunges into a plate, the roasted chicken squealing with demonic deliciousness. If I wasn't so hungry, I might just cry. Or scream back.

"Now, now young lady, have you no respect for your new headmaster?" Someone new booms, a shadow looming over me as my food evaporates.

"But sir, I'm just so hungry, I haven't eaten in hours," I sob.

The man-sized badger standing before me snorts, wrinkling his snout. One swipe of his mighty paw and a nearby plate is grounded. My eyes swell with tears as sweet aromas lift from the body, darting up my nose like anxious smoke.

"T-t-thank you," I blubber as I devour the food like the wolf devouring Grandma.

"Oh what a joyous occasion!" Headmaster Badger shouts, clapping his paws together once I've shovelled in the last mouthful. "I always hoped you'd accept my proposal and rule this school as my queen,"

"Excuse me?" I splutter, gulping down the meaty mush in my mouth. "This was a proposal? I thought it was just no strings attached food, you lied to me!"

"In the culture of my people, the offer of food is a marriage proposal. And you just accepted it, my beloved wife-to-be,"

"But I already promised to marry the bunny! Don't you understand what this means?" I frantically clap my hands to my reddened cheeks. "He will be so heartbroken! What will I do now? Who will save Easter? Who?!"

A beat starts to drum far off, growing to reverberate beneath my feet as guitars soon follow, strumming hastily. The sounds merge into melody, pounding furiously to the gravelly singing of a punk rock variety.

"Oh I love this song!" I grin like the Cheshire Cat. "Can we play it at our wedding? Pretty, pretty please?"

I turn as my furry fiancé melts, the castle building around me crumbling down. The impressionist scene peels away. Blackness stains the untouched corners, reaching its shadowy hands inwards, cold, lonely, dark. Only the thumping music is left, growing into a crashing crescendo. And as the climax sounds, my eyes snap open, flooding me with light. Reality seeps back in as I blink away my slightly worrying dream. If my mum didn't always tell me I'm special, I might just think I've gone bonkers over night.

Four familiar walls surround me, plastered in posters and framed family portraits with moustaches sketched onto the glass. Wardrobes in the far corner, bookcases in the opposite, door to en suite bathroom left askew, knickknacks scattered here there and everywhere: I am definitely back in my room. I crane my head to the side, blowing stray auburn strands out of my eyes as I spot the speakers humming beside me. I grin and drag my body upright. A squeak comes from the foot of my bed. There lies a ginger tuft, a head and four paws tucked somewhere in the mesh of fur.

"Good morning to you too, Cheddar," I beam, tickling my fingers along his plump belly. Purring harmonises with the music. "Enjoy these late starts while you can little man, back to school soon."

Creeping passed the ticking time bomb that is my chubby tabby cat; I manoeuvre out of bed, bare feet meeting the shaggy carpet. Quick wiggle of my toes before the track switches, a new tempo drumming over me. Upbeat, rapid and energetic–now I _really_ love_ this _song. With a few flicks of my fingers against the buttons the volume swells several decibels, the music resonating right through me.

I twirl across the floor, limbs jolting as I sing, matching every word– although most likely off-key. I pluck an outfit from drawers in time with the guitarist on his cords. I tear off my jimjams when the drummer slams down on the cymbals. Squirming, twisting, thrashing; I whip around the room and stumble into clothes. The music builds. I snatch up a brush and dive onto centre stage–otherwise known to the innocent bystander as my bed–as Cheddar slouches off. I belt out note after note at the top of my lungs, hairbrush at my lips. And then the guitars chant as I leap like the five little monkeys jumping on the bed. My heart is pounding. I bound, I chant. I ruffle my hair. Then I turn away from my unenthused feline, preparing to wow my audience with the trademark conclusion to all my performances.

"Only you could reach this level of ridiculousness,"

Suddenly my footing vanishes, startled away by the nosy intruder and my composure shatters. My legs crumble, my arms flail out. The floor races towards me, that bloody carpet my greatest foe. My arm hooks around the bedpost, dragging me back as my face is saved from impending doom. I struggle to my feet.

"Don't try to kill me whilst I'm performing," I say through my panting, heart pounding like an inmate against his prison bars. "You'll traumatise poor Cheddar."

Cheddar peeps before curling back up on my bed, the fat little blighter. My brother just sniggers in the doorway, a hyena laughing his head off at the clumsy antelope. He dabs a hand through his shaggy chestnut mop, struggling to control his chortling. He catches his breath; grin spread across his face like a coat hanger has pried his mouth open.

"You are an endless source of amusement, Dessie," he teases as I just poke my tongue out at him, finally finding my balance again. "And you should probably cover up _that_ before Mum sees it. Then again, her reaction will be fucking hilarious."

I glance down at my stomach, shirt riding up to reveal the silver threaded through my belly button. I quickly readjust and stretch the hem down to my hips. Mum would probably faint if she saw it and Dad would pop a blood vessel. An Eton and Hogwarts educated wizard isn't going to like piercings on anyone, let alone his little Desdemona. Toby once again snickers at me. Scurrying to him, I tug back his hair to reveal the hoop pierced into his ear: my trump card.

"Don't act like you don't have anything to cover up," he slaps my hand away.

"I only have this because _you _did it to me," he grimaces, the silver hoop disappearing back under his thick hair. What a bloody baby, it's just a piercing. "So you'd take the heat for it too."

"Hey, that was a life lesson,"

"Yeah, never trust you with a needle,"

"Or never bet against your little sister for she has many talents and one is always being right,"

"Too bad singing isn't one of them," he mutters when I brush passed him into the hallway. I smirk.

"Careful or I'll also tell Mum and Dad about your tattoo," I retract my earlier statement, _this _is my trump card.

"My what? I don't have a tattoo, don't be such a twat," denial, always the first stage.

"Then it must be another brother who has the dragon tattooed onto his back. I think it was a Hebridean Black," and here comes anger.

"How do you know that? Have-have you been spying on me? Fucking hell, what is wrong with you?" He hisses. See, I'm always right.

"No spying, you just suck at keeping secrets. Let's hope I'm better at it,"

"Please don't tell, I get enough of a bollocking from them already," begging, typical stage three. And now onto acceptance.

"I won't tell if you don't tell,"

"Seems fair," he relaxes, wide smile returning. "Thanks."

"So why'd you get it done?" I grin, giddy like a gossipy thirteen-year-old. "Did you lose another bet? Or trying to impress a girl? Were you drunk? Or under the Imperius Curse? Did someone pay you? Do James, Liam and Aidan have matching ones? I could see James with a Hungarian Horntail; I wonder what Liam would get–"

"Do you ever act your age?" Toby interrupts with a roll of his eyes.

"Says he who flooded the whole first floor after blowing up the girls' loo last year," he gasps with mock offence, clutching his chest.

"I am hurt, hurt and offended that you would think I did such a thing!" he lowers his voice into an exaggerated whisper. "And I'll have you know that it was all James' idea. Besides I was acting my age then, the spells we used were sixth year material–"

Oh yes, it clearly takes a very talented wizard to burst a couple water pipes. Or a very bored muggle with a few fireworks. My brother truly is the pinnacle of wizarding evolution. I'd best bow down to his superior might. Future generations will tell tales and sing songs of his bog conquests. It'll be a great honour. Back in the present, Toby has been rambling on for a good five minutes now. I should probably start listening instead of entertaining myself with my great wit.

"–So you are definitely the more immature one here, nothing I do can compete with all the singing and dancing,"

I interject. "Say what you will about muggles, but their music is bloody brilliant."

"_That_ is all you took from my whole speech?"

"In my defence, I wasn't really listening. But think about it, we have a pathetic music industry. We do have the odd band that is just pants off wicked, like the Weird Sisters from a couple decades back or Boggart Bypass," my heart flutters at just the mention of my favourite wizard band. The bassist is, as my friend Mads puts it, _shagtastic_. "But mostly it's pretty naff."

"Right..." Toby does this thing where he extends syllables until he is out of breath; it's his substitute for sarcasm sometimes. And this would be one of those times. It drives me up the wall. "Well as interesting as that was, the 'rents want to talk to you downstairs."

"Their wish is my command," I cross my arms over my chest and bow.

"Tosser," he rolls his eyes as he shoves me out of my genie stance.

I stumble and grin, catching my balance just in time. Dusting off my clothes, I march after my brother. You wouldn't think it looking at Toby and I–both sporting torn jeans and scruffy shirts right now–but our house is actually quite impressive. It has been in the family–by which I mean my father's muggle family–for generations, home to many aristocrats and nobles according to my Nan. The ceilings are high, decent couple of feet above my brother's 6' height. The walls are finely painted and decorated like something out of a Jane Austin novel, Victorian paintings and mirrors hung up all about. Thankfully Dad inherited his mother's decorating skills whereas Mum is useless. This beautiful Victorian family home would look more like a Picasso without my dad.

I jump down the sweeping staircase, skipping every other step and listening to my footsteps echoing. Mum and Dad sit in the lounge rimming the stairs. Dad–known to others as Justin Finch-Fletchley–seems far more relaxed than Mum, slouching into the cushions with his arms stretched out on the sofa's back. He's your average dad; cheerful, friendly, talkative and spends a little too much time teasing his kids. The years in a comfortable family and quality schools have been kind to him though, he looks better than most his age. A slender and always aging figure–complete with a bad back, thinning curly hair, cheerful brown eyes with crow's feet and smile lines. Although being a muggle-born during the Second Wizarding War must've added a few wrinkles, the poor sod.

Mum, or Demelza Finch-Fletchley née Robins–what a mouthful– is quite a bit stranger. She's the one my brother and I can thank for names like Tobias and Desdemona. Maybe it's because she didn't come from a prim and proper family like Dad or maybe it's because she's just bloody barmy. With a wild reddish-brown mane, big hazel eyes and the grace of a watermelon, Mum looks about as odd as she behaves. Overdramatic, exaggerated and a crazed Quidditch fan, she is not a force to be reckoned with. Once I tripped in town and Mum nearly scared the skins off of muggle children for laughing at me. After meeting our mother, people finally understand why Toby and I came out bonkers.

Toby plops down into an armchair when I reach the bottom of the stairs. "I found your rabid child,"

"Tobias," Mum scolds, his lips immediately snapping shut under her deathly glare. "Please sit with us, Desdemona."

Dad nods along before adding his two pence in. "We really need to speak with you."

A pit forms in my stomach. You know things are serious when your parents start referring to themselves as'us' and 'we'. It's a united front like when first formers rally against that weird kid who eats everyone's paste. Oh what good memories. I could always leg it. I can outrun a middle-aged couple easily. If I make it to town, they won't be able to use magic either thanks to all the muggles. Then again what will I do without Cheddar? I can't just abandon the bugger. Thinking of him, I slide onto a nearby sofa carefully as if it's rigged to explode. I actually wouldn't put that passed Toby, considering his penchant for blowing up furniture.

"Well, I'm not really sure where to start this," Mum's usually strong voice falters when Dad takes her hand, squeezing it as she continues. "I-I don't know why we've waited so long to tell you this. Sometimes I think you already know; you're such a brilliant young witch. Maybe that's why we've waited; we wanted your brother and you to be old enough to understand and you're both so grown up now–"

"Mum, you're rambling," I interrupt with a half-smile. As crazy as she may be, seeing her so nervous, so _insecure _is scaring me a little bit. Mum is never like this.

She gets back on track, still clinging tightly to my dad's hand. "Right, sorry. I guess we should start with this," Dad leans over to the coffee table to unravel the cloak on top of it. There are a few bits and pieces wrapped up in it, nothing that makes any sense whatsoever though.

"And what is this?" I ask, leaning over as well to get a good look at everything.

The cloak seems old, the edges frayed and the fabric scuffed up. It isn't the most appealing thing I've ever been given. Then again my granddad did give me a potato for Christmas once. Everything else is just scattered across it, most things torn and burnt beyond recognition. The only thing distinguishable is a wallet-sized photo of a young woman, the edges disfigured. The portrait moves suddenly, revealing itself to be magical. The woman starts to sway, her lips spreading into a grin as she bounces a baby in her arms. She shakes out her strawberry blonde hair and looks to her right where the edge is torn, speaking to an unseen figure. She's beautiful and refined like a 1950s pinup.

"This is yours," Mum whimpers, sniffling as she watches me examine everything. Before I know it, lavender floods my nose and she's sitting next to me, slipping an arm around my shoulders. "You see when your father and I first got married; we couldn't wait to have children. We loved our families and just wanted to start our own. And when we had Tobias we thought we couldn't get any happier. But then you came along. You were so beautiful even back then, sparkling grey eyes and a head of hair like red wine. And we loved you so much,"

Mum chokes as she tucks a few stray tangles around my ear, eyes glistening with fresh tears. I just stay still. I think I know what's coming. I've always wondered about it. But I thought it was just me being silly, being a hormonal teenager. Our family just seems so right. How could anything like that be true?

"We've never stopped loving you and that's why we couldn't tell you. We never wanted you to think you weren't an amazing and loved girl because you always have been. But you should know the truth, that you are... you are..." she takes a deep breath, smothering a sob as she clutches me, scared I'll fade away like the evening light when darkness sets in. "Oh my perfect little girl, you were just so small when we found you out there, wrapped up in these old robes. We couldn't believe someone had just left you in the cold, barely a few months old. But you didn't make a single sound, not even a little cry; you just smiled at us and held Justin's hand so tight. You never wanted to let go. And we never wanted to let you go."

"What are you saying?" Toby speaks up, watching dumbfounded as Mum holds me bawling and Dad stares at his hands fondly.

"We're saying that your sister is, that Desdemona is, she is–"

"–Adopted," I finish for Mum as she weeps before collapsing into her embrace. I bury my face in her shoulder overwhelmed by her sweet smell, the smell that would comfort me after every bad dream, after every school day away from home, after every scrape and bump. She envelops me tightly in her arms, stroking my hair and rocking gently, soothing me. "I'm adopted."


	2. Chapter One, Desdemona

_Author's Note: _Now that more characters are going to be introduced, I just want to say a big thank you to EmodinosaurX3 for Noelle, Millie, Nevaeh and Liam. :D I love them and can't wait to introduce them. Anyway, hope the chapter is alright. ^^ Also I made a cover for the story, trying to upload it onto here. Thank goodness for wood textures on Photoshop is all I'm saying, made drawing a whole lot easier. xD

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_**Harry Potter fanfiction**_

_**MADHEADS ARE FROM MERCURY**_

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**CHAPTER ONE**

**DESDEMONA**

* * *

I don't know how long we stay like this; me in Mum's arms as she sobs, Tobias caved into his armchair wide-eyed, Dad watching us and cradling his hands to his heart. Time just seems to stop. I want to cry, to scream, to throw up all at the same time. I had my suspicions, two dark-eyed parents with a grey-eyed daughter, a lack of direct resemblance between my brother and I but nothing was ever confirmed. There were family members with similar eyes, similar complexions, similar colouring to me. I just thought of them whenever I wondered and smiled. But I can't think of them now. I can't hide from the truth in my mum's embrace.

"So what is all this stuff then?" I ask so quietly I worry no one hears me. My mum seems to as she glances at Dad who shifts in his seat, clearing his throat.

"This is what we found you with. You were wrapped up in that cloak, just left in the leaves beside what we think were the remains of a fire. We found these bits and pieces in the ashes, they looked like photographs,"

Mum's voice is cracked and uneven as she speaks. "We managed to save one of them; we think it might be of your mother,"

"You're my mother," I whisper into her shoulder as I can feel her smiling softly. We glance at the photo of the woman swaying.

"She's beautiful just like you are,"

"She doesn't hold a candle to you," I squeeze my mum's middle. "No one does."

"Thank you, sweetheart," she kisses the top of my head, rubbing my back rhythmically. "We could never understand why someone would leave you out there, you were so wonderful."

"You should've seen your brother; he threw a tantrum every time we took you into a different room from him for a whole year. He never wanted to be apart from you," Dad chuckles.

"But I thankfully grew out of that,"

"Be nice Tobias," Mum seethes but I find myself smiling, the familiar humour lifting my spirits. I draw away from her, drying my tears on my palms and watching my family's faces light up at my smile.

"Why did you guys keep the cloak?"

It's Dad's time to do some explaining, his expression dropping ever so slightly. "Well, that's part of why we decided it was time to tell you. When we first found you, we weren't sure if we'd be allowed to keep you. We thought you were a muggle and the Ministry wasn't keen on the idea of a magical family adopting a non-magical child. So we brought them what we'd found you with to prove there were traces of magic on the moving photograph and the robe. But more importantly the Ministry found the robe is an old uniform, a _Hogwarts_ uniform."

Dad pulls back the edge of the tattered robe, revealing a badge pinned into it. I can barely recognise the badge, blackened and tarnished with dirt. But the print in the centre shines through, forming the letter _C._

"This person was a Quidditch Captain," Toby notes as he falls to his knees beside the table to inspect the badge more closely.

"Yes," Mum cups my cheek with her hand, blinking away her sadness. "And that's why we kept it, why we're giving it to you. We want you to know that we understand if you want to find your birth parents–"

"I don't," I shake my head, hair whipping against my cheek.

Why would I want to meet someone who abandoned a baby? Who didn't even give me to child services? Who instead left me out in the cold, not knowing if anyone would find me? I feel dirty and disgusting just knowing that I come from someone capable of doing that, if I met them I don't know what I'd do.

"Sweetheart, we won't be upset if you do. It's natural to want to know where you came from and we'll support you whatever you do. You don't have to say no to protect us–"

I feel trapped in this conversation. Her words are smothering me. I don't even want to think about where I came from let alone actively seek out my biological parents. I just want it to stop.

"I'm not. I have parents, I have a brother and I don't want or need anything else. I've got everything already, I'm happy with what I have."

I stand up, a tense grin tugging across my lips. The urge to throw up is skyrocketing. I want to do a runner, flee back up the stairs to where I was dancing and singing. Back to where none of _this _was happening.

"Desdemona," Mum extends the syllables in my name. That'd be where Toby picked up his annoying habit. I can tell she wants to pry my feelings out of me. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," my voice breaks. "Perfectly fine, I've just got to get packed for school."

I charge, scrambling upstairs without a second glance at my family. I know if I look I'll shrink back into Mum's arms. It's part of her mother telepathy. I scuttle into my room, narrowly avoiding a collision with my open door before collapsing onto my bed. The duvet hugs me, moulding to my shape like a cloud. I love my bed; all I need is my bed. Cheddar yowls, staring me down. Let me correct myself: all I need is my bed _and _Cheddar, my mindreading mongrel. Chuffed, he yawns and stretches his pudgy figure before sauntering over. He curls up next to my face and tickles my noses with tufts of orange fur.

"I am in an utterly pants situation," I whisper to him. He peels his bright eyes open, staring at me. "But I feel like I can't even cry, like it hasn't sunk in. How can I be adopted? How could someone abandon me?"

He starts to purr and nuzzles closer. I skim my fingers through his fuzz, tracing his tabby marks. Watching him vibrating, I narrow my eyes and cock my head. From this angle he looks like someone has electrocuted a mangy carrot, the ones are knocking on a bit and start sprouting little hairs. Jeez, that image is a bit weird even for me. Maybe I've got brain worms. All that adoption talk could just be a hallucination, a side effect. I _did_ eat a manky lunch the other day, it tasted a bit wormy. I mean who puts pickles and chicken in a sarnie?

I could stay here all day, cuddled up with my cat who I've discovered he smells like a meadow after his bath yesterday. Mum had to don yellow gardening gloves and hold the wriggling blighter at arms' length just to get him into the bathroom. Getting him into the bath was too gruesome for me to discuss, the scars are too fresh. It all paid off though, now I just want to rub him on my face. I blame that one on the brain worms too.

"Please don't make out with the poor cat, that's a sight I don't want to see," I glance over Cheddar's head to see Toby leaning against my wardrobe. I'm starting to suspect he might be a ninja. Or the brain worms are making me deaf. "Don't get me wrong, I always hoped you crazy kids would get together."

"How do you keep doing that? Tell me your secrets, great ninja of the south,"

He crouches, tiptoeing over to me as his eyes shift. "I have skills beyond your wildest dreams. Remember Christmas at school last year? It was actually _me_ that stole your pudding,"

What? That evil little sod! I will avenge my pudding.

"That pudding was the love of my life! It hurt so bad I swore revenge on he who stole it! I nearly made James cry! Sometimes at night I can still hear his screaming!"

"I know, it was bloody brilliant," he belts out a cackle, clinging to my bedpost for support. "James flinched every time you came near him for a good couple of months."

"Oh I remember that," I sigh with a smile. "What good times."

"So you know I didn't come up here to talk about you beating the snot out of James, right?"

He twists around my bedpost, sinking onto the end. Cheddar squeals, ears jetting back as he glares at the intruder ruining our special moment. Toby just hisses at him.

"Well as subtle as you are, yes I know," Cheddar scoots closer to my face, muffling me. "And stop being a twat before I suffocate on ginger fur."

"It's just so much fun upsetting the bugger," he pulls his legs onto the bed, folding them like Buddha, crisscross applesauce. How he can do that in his slim fit jeans? I'm stumped. "But I'll stop, I need you alive for this or I'll get such an earful from Mum."

"Is she pulling the strings here then? Forced you up here to see if I'm okay?"

"No, she didn't. I'm here because I want to be," it's a little eerie when Toby actually acts like a big brother; he usually exchanges care and worry for teasing me. "Are you okay?"

I half-smile. "Don't I look okay?"

"Lying on your bed with a fat tabby in your face? Yep, you look just tickety-boo," he stretches out his hand, unravelling his fingers to reveal the ragged badge in his palm. "Why don't you want to find your parents?"

I just stare at the shiny _C_, voice now a whisper. "Because they aren't my parents, they aren't even people. What kind of person leaves a baby out in the cold? They didn't know if I'd survive, if anyone would find me. I don't want those sorts in my life,"

"That doesn't matter now, someone _did _find you. You have a family that loves you and a brother who I've heard is not only hilarious and dashing but also terribly wise," he straightens up, adjusting an imaginary bowtie at the collar of his button-down shirt. Tosser. "And those people don't have to be in your life. You choose if they are or not. But you'll regret it if you don't take this chance to at least find out who they are."

"How do you know that?"

"Because you don't know how you'll feel about this in the future. Even if you don't want to meet them, what if you need them for your medical _or _magical history? They don't have to be in your life, it's your choice if they are or not. But this is your only opportunity. One of them went to our school; he or she was a Quidditch Captain. We can find them. You'll kick yourself if you don't do this now,"

Since when is he so smart? Are my brain worms contagious? This is very unsettling; it's like seeing a professor out of school and wondering if you've fallen into another dimension.

I sigh. "Why can't you be a numpty all the time?"

"Because then you'd be the smart one and it'd be the end of the world," that's more like it, my normal arse of a brother is back. I stick my tongue out at him. "Careful or you'll get stuck like that."

"Then I'll be even more beautiful,"

"'Course, blokes love a girl with her tongue hanging out like a dog," he dangles his tongue out his mouth and crosses his eyes. He looks ridiculous. "It's irresistible."

I snort with laughter. My loud sniggers easily infects him–as well as startling Cheddar right off the bed–and his barking laugh echoes through my room. I try to speak through my giggles, probably sounding like my wheezing granddad.

"Okay, okay," I throw my hands up in surrender. "I'll do it; I'll look for my birth parents. You'd better be there if I don't like what I find though."

"Deal,"

* * *

King's Cross Station is impressive, a wonderful blend of modern and historical with extensions here and there, coffee shops buzzing with commuters and newspaper stands flooded with the latest headline. Then again none of that compares to platform 9¾, entered straight through the solid barrier between platforms nine and ten. And on days like this, the Hogwarts Express is stationed at the secret platform, the bright scarlet steam engine humming as students file onto it. It's like watching birds migrate away for the winter, into the great unknown but always knowing they'll come back home when spring comes.

But the only thing better than platform 9¾ is platform 7½ where the Occult Express departs from. Imagine the Orient Express meets top tier magic and you've got the Occult Express; a long-distance train to all the wizard-only villages in Europe. Dad's family travel on the Orient Express just about anywhere and I loved it when I was little–and unable to use any magic. But now that I can, I swear on Toby's life that I _will _ride the Occult Express one day.

"Hannah should be here by now," Dad interrupts my daydreaming as he checks his watch. We are standing in the middle of the platform, young witches and wizards flitting around us. "She did say to meet at ten thirty."

"Not everyone can be as punctual as you, dear," Mum teases, prodding him in the ribs playfully.

"They should be, it'd make life with you a lot easier," he frowns and pulls her into his arms, his tall figure easily overpowering her short one even in middle age.

"Don't we have a rule about public displays of affection?" Toby mutters, rubbing his temples as he averts his gaze from their snuggling.

"Yes but it only applies to children," Mum chimes.

"I feel nauseous," he groans and clutches his stomach. I have to mirror that vomit-related sentiment; I probably look like death warmed up.

"Then go find the Longbottoms," Dad mumbles, distracted as they dive in for a snog. I grab Toby's wrist and bolt before either of us upchuck everywhere.

Shouting over my shoulder, we disappear into the crowd. "That sounds like a great idea!"

I weave through the bodies shuffling to and from the Hogwarts Express, searching for the familiar face of Alice Nevaeh Longbottom; my lifelong best friend. I've known her since before I can remember, there are photos of us mucking around before we were even toddlers. Her mum, Hannah, is one of my Dad's school chums and they made sure to keep in contact. Her dad has a more complicated back story; Mum and he were both in Gryffindor at Hogwarts–but unfortunately, not in the same year–and he had a passing acquaintanceship with Dad. Nowadays he is my Herbology professor, Professor Neville Longbottom.

"Can you see Nevaeh?" I call back to Toby. "I need your superior height to look over this bloody crowd."

"That'd work if she wasn't so short; it's like a giant finding the tiniest needle in the tallest haystack,"

"That's a bit melodramatic; there's no way _you _are tall enough to be a giant,"

I tune out his defensive rambling as I catch sight of something. A short ballerina figure shrinking into the crowd, a polka-dot dress, ivory Mary-Jane flats. I crane my neck to get a better view. Soft makeup, big chocolate eyes staring at the ground shyly, platinum curls falling just below her ears: that's her. I'd recognise Nevaeh anywhere; it's one of my many skills. I jerk Toby with me and charge, waving my free hand as high as I can without pulling my arm right out the socket. Her eyes lift, catching sight of me flailing. She smiles, nudging the taller woman standing beside her and pointing.

Then, in fashion true to me, my feet collide with another set and I tumble to the floor. The cool stone meets my arms as I shield my face. What a great way to start the year, face plants really do make a good impression. I can hear footsteps rushing over to me as Toby cackles on the sidelines. Rolling onto my back and dusting the dirt from my sleeves, Nevaeh and her mother are leaning over to help me up. Taking their hands, I just burst into giggles.

"At least no one can say I don't make a lasting impression,"


	3. Chapter Two, Millie

_Author's Note: _The first change in perspective, aaaah. Hopefully it'll go well. xD Just wanted to AGAIN wish EmodinosaurX3 a happy birthday aaaaand thank her for Millie and Noelle, again. (: Kind of a short chapter, but hopefully it's okay. ^^ I wanted some cuteness.

* * *

_**A Harry Potter Fanfiction**_

_**MADHEADS ARE FROM MERCURY**_

* * *

**CHAPTER TWO**

**MILLIE**

* * *

"What a pathetic little freak," Noelle Flint snorts beside me as a girl is helped off the platform floor. We had watched as she face-planted moments earlier with the lack of grace only a Hufflepuff has.

"She's a Hufflepuff, they're all pathetic," I sneer, narrowing my almond-shaped eyes as I watch the scene unfold.

A friend who looks more like a doll than a witch is helping the girl up. The girl laughs off the embarrassment, probably immune to the shame with such a naff dress sense. She looks like she climbed out of a bohemian bog. If only she'd fall back down there.

"True, they are an insult to magic," she cackles and flips her chocolate brown hair over her shoulder, a few stray strands getting caught in her finely manicured nails. The amount of time Noelle spends on her appearance is fucking frightening. She may be my best friend but if she spent less time in the loo and more studying, her O.W.L.s would be a bloody walk in the park. "I can smell their dirty blood from over here, it's _disgusting_."

She wrinkles her nose, the faint freckles there creasing. She rolls her doe eyes, the icy blue colour piercing the souls of any onlookers. It's hilarious when she stares down a snivelling first year and the girl looks like she's wet her knickers. Her hatred of others–and innate ability to make girls cry–easily makes up for her hour long stints in the loo. The only time I absolutely can't stand Noelle is when anyone dares to stand up to her and makes a comment about her most prized possession: her looks. She becomes a snivelling, stroppy mess. Tears everywhere, screaming and shouting; she throws the most ridiculous tantrums. It's like sharing a dorm with a toddler.

"You see that girl helping her up," she nudges me, pointing to the platinum-haired doll dusting off the Hufflepuff. "Scorpius thinks she's gorgey, I mean what the hell? When he has someone like _me_, why does he want to look at someone like _her_? I could tear her to shreds, she's so tiny. She looks like a child–"

As she continues to ramble venomously, Noelle adjusts the neckline of her tartan dress to reveal more of her above average breasts. She smoothes the fabric around her curvaceous figure, clinching it as far in as possible at her waist and pushing up her bust a little bit. All the while she is staring down her competition. Ever since Scorpius Malfoy showed interest in other girls, Noelle has been determined to make him want her. She spent the whole summer sending him letters or _long-distance flirting _as she puts it. It's nauseating. The boys–not _men_–we go to school with are absolutely abysmal, I wouldn't share a train compartment with any of them let alone my love life.

A new figure steps into the scene, taller than the two girls and chuckling loudly. My breathing hitches. My heart flutters, jittering in my chest like a banger. No matter how adamant I am not to give the boys at Hogwarts any thought, he always makes my insides shudder and melt. I hate him for it. I wish I could hex him right off the platform into the path of an oncoming train. Except I actually don't. Although I'd never admit it out loud, I know the butterflies inside me are not from contempt. I know I am suffering from the most soul destroying thing a teenage girl can; I know I have a crush on Tobias Finch-Fletchley.

He is so handsome, his figure slender but not quite scrawny. I imagine her must have traces of muscles from hours of Quidditch, he is an _amazing _Chaser for Gryffindor. Nutmeg hair falls to his slanted jaw, a few curls flicking out at the ends; I just want to run my fingers through them. Shorter strands fall into his hazel eyes as he grins at the girls. I feel my insides twist at his smile. I wish he'd smile at me. Not that I'd ever tell him. Or anyone. Even his name makes me want to smile, it just rolls off the tongue; _Tobias. _I don't know why he would shorten it to Toby. Idiot.

Suddenly a new emotion overwhelms me, crashing over like a wave as he flings his arms around both girls. I know the auburn-haired Hufflepuff is his tosser sister–not that I care or anything. I just know. But the other girl, I feel the green-eyed monster rearing its ugly head as I watch her smile at him. I just want to march over and pry them apart. My jaw clenches, hands curling into fists so tight that my nails dig into my palm. Luckily Noelle is too wrapped up in her ranting to notice.

"That bitch," I mutter through my glaring. If looks could kill, I hope the girl would drop dead.

"I know right?" Noelle exclaims, mistaking my outburst as agreeing with her rant. "Scorpius said her name is Alice but everyone calls her Nevaeh. What a prat. And get this; her father is Professor Longbottom!"

I snap out a bitter laugh. "The chubby Herboloy professor? He's a bumbling tosser who couldn't impart knowledge onto a nit let alone a student."

"Oh Mille, I love it when you're a bitch," Noelle grins at me, throwing an arm over my shoulder. I roll my eyes with a half-smile.

"I'm always a bitch. I'm just not as vocal about it as you,"

"Well you should be. You have quite the mean streak," she prods me in the ribs, smirk on her plump lips. "With that and a body like yours, you could really devastate men."

"Is that meant to sound fun?" I ask with a deadpanned expression.

She licks her lips and parts from me. "Of course it is. There's nothing better than a bit of male attention and you definitely deserve it with _this_,"

She outlines my hourglass curves a few centimetres from my figure, highlighting what she deems my _huge bust _and _nice hips_. We have conversations like this all the time; especially when I wear looser clothing and Noelle cries that it's an injustice to my banging body. The other girls in our dorm must think we have a very _special _relationship.

"If you weren't my best friend, I'd probably hate you for looking as good as I do," she giggles as she fingers one of my black waves, flicking it out of my face.

"Do you not know how a compliment works?" I ask, slapping away her hand. "Because you're crap at giving them."

"It's part of my charm. And if you won't use your looks and attitude to manipulate boys, will you at least use them to get everything you can out of being a prefect?"

I shrug, disinterested. "And what can I get out of being a prefect? Give detentions to people I don't like? That's hardly impressive; I'd rather just hex them into a bloody oblivion,"

"We can torture the other students; see if we can get any first years to faint like that little Hufflepuff boy last year," she laughs, grinning mischievously at the memory. I smile too. It was hilarious; I thought the blubbering blighter was going to have a stroke. "Plus Scorpius is a prefect; you can always do a little groundwork for me."

"So that's what this is about," I shake my head, deadpan expression returning. "Look you can be as boy-crazed as you like but keep it out of my life."

"Oh c'mon, lighten up a bit _Millicent_," I glare daggers at her as she trots away from me. I just want to smack the smirk right off her face. I _hate _my full name with a flaming passion.

"Don't call me that," I seethe.

"Only if you stop being acting like you've had the painters in," she chimes with an innocent expression, batting of her long eyelashes.

"Grow up," I shove passed her, part of me hoping she'll fall on the tracks and finally learn when to shut up. She just saunters after me as we board the train.

"You know Scorpius has a friend," I can feel my patience witling away. I might have to stuff her robes straight down her throat if she doesn't shut it. "He's really delicious, definitely shaggable. It might help you loosen up."

"Noelle, do you know what it's like to be punched in the face because you are about to find out," I whip around to face her, fist at the ready. She jumps back with a yelp, startled.

"See, you really need a good shagging," she teases as she pats my fist.

"No I don't," I spit and unravel my fist. "If you're anything to go by, a _good shagging _substantially decreases your mental faculties."

"Who needs brains when you look like we do?" I roll my eyes and turn my back to her, heading back down the corridor in search of a compartment. Sometimes I really do question why we are still friends. We will be the death of each other one day.

"Teenage boys are being valued more than education," I mutter, shaking my head. "This must be the apocalypse."

"Wait until you spend some time with him, he is so gorgeous,"

"Then why don't you date him?" I groan, wanting to pull my hair out just to experience something less painful than this conversation.

"I've got to focus on Scorpius,"

I bark out a cruel laugh. "Since when are you into monogamy?"

"What can I say; he's a hard one to pin. I've got to make sacrifices,"

"All of this just because he doesn't want you," I scoff.

"This isn't about me; this is about _you _and Brayden Zabini–"

"Look I found us a compartment!" I interrupt, tearing the door to my right open.

Inside are several other sixth year Slytherins–all girls–who I suppose we could call friends. They are definitely more so Noelle's friends than mine; I find it hard to feign interest in their petty lives. But right now they are my saviours. She won't talk up about my imaginary love life in front of them, not unless she wants to wake up with snakes in her bed.

"Hey guys!" one of the girls exclaims. "We saved some space just for you two."

"Sorry lovelies, we've already got a compartment reserved," Noelle replies with fake sweetness before taking the door from my hands and slamming it shut. "So back to Brayden,"

"When will you stop this?" I moan.

"When you agree to consider him,"

"I'd sooner eat a wellie,"

"Then I'll never stop," she grabs hold of my wrist and drags me down the hallway, curls flying wildly behind her. "Anyway, we'd best get to the compartment before the train sets off."

I eye her suspiciously. "What compartment? What are you forcing me to do now?"

"Well I had a feeling you would be apprehensive about Brayden so I thought I'd give you a chance to get to know him better," she states with a wink as she checks the letters on each door. "Plus I need to get to work on Scorpius; I've got a whole summer apart to make up for."

"You've got a screw loose,"

Before I can tear away and escape one of her many attempts to set me up with a boy, Noelle beams at the compartment in front of us. She throws the door open, a playful smile on her lips as she cocks her hips.

"Hello you," she soothes as Scorpius looks up from his conversation, silvery white hair falling into his grey eyes.

Across from him sits a tall Slytherin boy dressed in an expensive button-down shirt and slacks. His skin is smooth brown, his eyes almost black. He glances at me out of the corner of his eye but otherwise doesn't acknowledge me. How charming, why wouldn't I want to _shag _this boy as Noelle insists on putting it?

"Nellie," he greets with a smile.

I scrunch up my face, deforming the beauty mark just above my lips. "Nellie?"

"It's the nickname he gave me," Noelle announces proudly. "Cute, isn't it?"

"It's practically my name," I mumble under my breath, arms folding over my chest.

She claps her hands together. "Oh right! This is Millie Goyle,"

"Brayden Zabini," the dark-skinned boy announces, stretching his large hand out towards me.

I look at it, apathetic. Ignoring his pleasantries, I take my allocated seat next to Brayden whilst Noelle–or Nellie–slides next to Scorpius. Her hands immediately start crawling up his chest, their voices becoming lewd whispers. I feel like I'm watching a low budget adult show.

"Did you miss me?" She murmurs as one of his hands runs up her thigh. I may just throw up.

I scoot closer to the window, trying to put as much distance between Brayden and I as physically possible. If any of his hands come anywhere near me, I _will_ break them. The mangy prat, I am going to kill Noelle for this. With a sigh, I look away from the inconsiderate couple and loll my head to the side. Out the window I can see the last few students boarding the train. My gut does flick flacks as I see him again. I melt into my seat as the memory of how we first met floods over me, cleansing me of my irritation.

I remember standing alone on platform 9¾; parents too busy trying to restrain my gargyole-faced brothers to wish me luck for my new year at Hogwarts. Noelle was nowhere to be seen, too busy snogging the face off her first conquest for the year. To top everything off, my older brother had put troll bogeys in my hair the day before. Then my mother, in her infinite wisdom, grabbed a pair of scissors and just sliced everything the snot had touch off. I was left with a poxy bob that barely reached my jaw. I looked like someone had hexed a lopsided mop. Disgusted, irritable and alone, I was starting fifth year like every other.

As I made my way onto the train, a twat who wasn't looking where he was going collided with me. Everything I held went flying and I tumbled to the floor. I scrambled up all my belongings, frustration brewing up inside me like a poison. But then a hand darted before my eyes, gathering up the rest of my litter before extending to help me up. I was ready to snap at whoever had taken pity on me when I saw his smile. His smile took my breath–and annoyance–away, it was a smile that spread right up to his warm eyes, a genuine smile. I took his hand, hot against my cold skin but he didn't seem to mind.

"Are you alright?" He asked as he handed me the rest of my stuff.

"Yeah, just a bit shaken," I squeaked with a nervous laugh.

"What a good start to the year," his smile widened and my knees buckled. "Hey, you're Millie right?"

"Yes, how did you know?" I felt like I was about to becoming a swooning numptie.

"Oh you're one of the new prefects," he explained, running a hand through his hair. "I'm a sixth year prefect for Gryffindor, we were told to look after the new ones, keep you guys all on the right track."

"How noble," I taunted and he laughed melodically.

"See if you feel that way next year, I'm hoping to be Head Boy and then I'll be your boss," suddenly a trio of Gryffindor boys interrupted us, flagging him over. He shook his head with a smile. "I'd best go, glad you're okay."

"Thanks," I half-smiled to hide that I was wishing his friends hadn't interrupted.

"Oh and I really like your hair," he called after me just as I turned to board the train again. "You look bloody brilliant."

And then my heart just soared. Even to this day, I wish he had left me alone. I hate him for doing this to me.


	4. Chapter Three, Desdemona

_Author's Note: _Not the longest chapter. It's quite a bit on the short side but I'm excited to get more of this out. ^^ Especially now that they're all at Hogwarts. (: And now that all the characters are introduced. :3

* * *

_**A Harry Potter Fanfiction**_

_**MADHEADS ARE FROM MERCURY**_

* * *

**CHAPTER THREE**

**DESDEMONA**

* * *

"No fucking way!"

We all look up to find James Potter bursting through the compartment door, red-faced and bug-eyed. He looks like he's done one hell of a runner. His black hair is tousled, his nutmeg eyes narrowing.

"And hello to you too," Toby rolls his eyes. "My summer was great, James, and how was yours?"

"You're fucking Head Boy?!" James continues on his rant, throwing his arms in the air. "On what fucking planet are you a better choice than _this_?"

He gestures to his body, eyebrows raised. The trollop has a flare for the dramatic. I just grin as I watch the scene from the other side of the compartment. For once it's not me being ridiculous. I knew there was a reason why I always liked having James around.

"The same planet where you're Quidditch Captain and I'm not," Toby challenges with a smirk.

"I think Toby will be a great Head Boy," Nevaeh squeaks from beside him, looking up from the dusty book in her lap.

I slam my palm into my forehead. "Why would you do that?"

"Bollocks, I'm the superior man," he slides into the space on her other side, slinging an arm around her slim shoulders. He flicks one of her platinum curls, his voice lowering into a purr. "And you'll find that out when you go on that date with me, love."

"I'm going to throw up," I tease.

"Don't interrupt my love!" He exclaims before turning back to Nevaeh. When he gets like this–which is pretty much whenever she is around–I feel like I need to shower afterwards. And everyone but James feels the same. "I'm sorry you had to see me like that, I'm normally so charming and level-headed.

"Leave the poor girl alone," Toby groans from the other side of the seat, deadpan expression.

"Cut the poor sod some slack, he's always been a failure with women," another voice sniggers, an Irish accent bleeding into his words. I love the accent. But Aidan Finnigan is a royal pain in the arse. "He should take a page out of my book."

He plops down on the other end of my seat, running a hand through his wispy sandy tangles. His cheeky grin widens, revealing his pearly whites as James glares at him.

"What book is that; your bestselling 'how to offend a woman in any country' or 'how to get slapped in five seconds or less'?"

"Jealousy isn't attractive, Potter," he chimes, poking his tongue out with another hearty laugh. "You'll never get little Nevaeh like that."

"Please stop," Nevaeh whispers, eyes falling to her lap. I smile at her. I wish I could help. But boys are not my strong suit. I can offer her an immature joke or unintentional clumsy slapstick.

"Don't just stand there, sit down you wally," Aidan interrupts, inviting the last member of my brother's Gryffindor quartet to sit between us.

Holy bugger. He is tall, tallest of all four seventh years. But his height isn't scary or ridiculous; he just looks delicate with a slender figure and porcelain skin. The messy ends of his shaggy light brown –I'd probably call it dirty blonde– hair entangle his neck and bangs sweep above his big chocolate eyes. I could just drown in the warm colour and I would die a very happy girl. He's so adorable, he always has been but it's different. His height has practically doubled, his hair grown out of its ear-length mop. The summer holidays have definitely made Liam Creevey into a _shagtastic sex god_–what would I do without Mads' vocab?

"Hi," he smiles faintly. I open my mouth to respond with bubbly enthusiasm but nothing comes out. My voice is gone. Oh bloody bum baskets. If there is a god, please let the floor swallow me up.

He sits next to me and my heart jitters. I claw at my chest, eyes widening. Maybe I'm dying. Or I swallowed a butterfly. Aidan stretches out, propping his leg up on the seat and nudging Liam over. He collides with my side, arms flailing around me to try and protect me. My stomach does back flips and I want to faint, vomit and squeal all at the same time.

"S-sorry," he whispers, blushing as he peels back from me. "Aidan is being obnoxious."

"No surprise there," I smile. I hope it looks natural. But not creepy. I don't want him to think I'm enjoying this. Even though a tiny part of me might be. He smells like peppermint and well-aged books, slightly withered but all the more amazing.

"Aidan," Toby interrupts, lobbing one of his Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans at his face. "Stop trying to make Liam mount my sister."

He snatches up the bean, plopping it into his mouth. "I'm just helping the little guy out,"

"I hope you choke on it,"

It's hard to believe these four are best friends and closer than most, probably boarding on a foursome.

"Nah, you'd miss me too much," Aidan smirks, eyebrows wiggling. "And women definitely miss this beloved body and face."

"What women love any of that?" I snort with laughter. "And your mum really doesn't count."

"But yours does," he pokes out his tongue at me. I wonder if he got the adoption memo.

"Just shut up," Toby snaps, glaring daggers at him. He must've mirrored my thoughts.

"If he could shut up, he'd be a lot less annoying," James pipes up, taking his eyes off his beloved Nevaeh for a few moments. She exhales, shoulders slumping in relief. She's much too nice to tell him to bugger off when he gets like this. Which is often, his practically lifelong crush on her is a bit obsessive. Or _romantic _as he puts it.

Aidan beams. "And a lot less sex. Girls love an arse,"

"We really don't," I say with a roll of my eyes. "You're just a deluded prat."

Liam chuckles at our exchange.

"And you love that about me," he winks, blowing me a kiss. Is everyone trying to make me upchuck today?

"Okay, new rule: my sister is off-limits to all of _that_," Toby growls, pointing up and down the Irish twit with a glower.

James nods. "Mine too."

"C'mon, give me some credit. Lily's only a fourth year,"

"And you're a filthy bastard,"

"Fair dues," he turns back to me, shamrock eyes glistening. "If I can't have fun with you, where's Madeleine? She's always a good flirt,"

"She's with her boyfriend," Nevaeh exclaims, her voice breaking. We've spent the better of a year and a half keeping him away from Mads. It's his new life mission to break her relationship up. "They spent the _whole _summer together."

"Oh _that_ Ravenclaw ponce,"

"Now who's jealous?" James smirks.

* * *

"Dessie! Nevaeh!" I glance up from my food, stuffing another spoonful of sweet potato into my mouth. "I missed you guys so much!"

Madeleine–Mads–Train; bubbly, ridiculous and downright bonkers. It's hard not to love the half-British, half-American plonker. Her words echo through the buzzing hall, her voice having the full-on force of a bullhorn. She bounds up and down, ebony hair bouncing at her shoulders and hands flailing in the air. Her bright blue eyes glitter behind her square-framed glasses as they lock onto me like a hawk. As soon as my gaze catches her she bolts, her athleticism carrying her the hall's full length in a matter of seconds. I can barely run up the stairs without wanting a water break.

"Hey!" She grins all the way up to her eyes, skidding to a stop before climbing onto the bench next to Nevaeh. She pushes her glasses up her nose, their sunshine yellow and jet black colours matching the Hufflepuff table. "How've you guys been?"

"Very good thank you," Nevaeh smiles as Mads throws an arm around her, pulling her into an embrace. Her tall, slender figure envelopes the former's tiny ballerina one. It's like watching a lion hugging a mouse–if the lion has been hyped up on caffeine. "How was your summer?"

"It was the fucking bomb; I went up to Scotland with Craig and his family," she giggles at the mention of her boyfriend, glancing at the Ravenclaw table. "Sorry for not sitting with you guys on the train, we just wanted to spend some time together before classes start. Did Potter give you much trouble without me there to defend your honour?"

As the two chat, I gaze passed their shoulders to the Gryffindor table, alive with chatter. The Potter and Weasleys families congregate at one end, spanning almost every year in their trademark house. Amongst them sits James and company, Aidan and Toby with their backs to me whilst James and Liam face my way–probably so the former can stare at Nevaeh without her knowing. I suppress a little squeal. Liam cocks his head to the side, eyes glued on the vintage muggle camera he is fiddling with. In fact I don't think I remember a time when he wasn't carrying it around. He says it belonged to his uncle Colin. He doesn't really talk about him though. I wonder why. He looks so adorable lost in concentration. Like when Cheddar finds a fly and watches it intensely, wide-eyed yet focused. Did I just compare my cat to an attractive wizard? Oh bum, I'm really starting to see why Toby thinks I'm going to run off and marry Cheddar. He'd be a good husband though.

"No shitting way," Mads gasps and knocks me back into reality with a well-aimed cookie to the forehead. It's no wonder she's such a good Beater, the girl is a bloody great shot. "You like Liam!"

"What?" I splutter through mouthfuls of my newly acquired cookie. "No I don't, you numptie."

"Yes you do! You're practically shagging him with your eyes!"

Nevaeh quickly shushes Mads' exclamation, fair cheeks burning red as several eyes look our way. I poke my tongue out at the onlookers, Mads doing the same and crossing her eyes. A few Hufflepuffs snigger, others just shrug and go back to their chitchatting. We probably aren't a surprise to any of them after six years here. I roll my tongue back up.

"What are you talking about? You can't do that with your eyes," I pause, leaning towards Nevaeh and lowering my voice into a whisper. "Right?"

She nods. "See, she agrees. Now eat your roast chicken,"

"Trust me, you're finding a way to violate him with your eyes," she waves a drumstick at me, glancing over the rims of her glasses. "You dirty little witch."

"Mads, please stop," Nevaeh squeals, fiddling with her cutlery and pushing peas across her plate. Mads' regular rants about sex always make the exceptionally innocent and shy member of our trio exceptionally uncomfortable.

"I'm just telling the truth, sweetie. Besides, I know you've violated Potter a few times with those big brown eyes," she buries her face into her hands as Mads wriggles her eyebrows beneath her thick fringe.

"I'm fairly sure Potter would let her violate him any way she wants," I chime in and Nevaeh shakes her head, speaking in only a whisper.

"I don't want to violate anyone,"

"Now that's a lie but we love you no matter how naughty you are," Mads grins, prodding her until Nevaeh eventually unravels from her hands, cheeks like beetroots. "There we go, now we can all see your pretty face."

"Stop teasing me,"

"I tease you with love, Nevaeh. But back to the matter at hand," her chicken leg sceptre is pointed at me again. "_You _like Liam,"

"Don't wave your poultry at me,"

"Don't avoid the subject, Dessie,"

"I'm not avoiding anything, there's nothing to avoid," I shake my head before shoving another mouthful in.

Mads turns to Nevaeh, eyebrows arched into her fringe again. "You've known her for longer than me. Do you think she likes him?"

"Well she was acting a little strange on the train,"

"Nevaeh!" I exclaim through my mouthful, exasperated. She doesn't need to encourage the tosser.

"You mean stranger than usual," the two nod in sync before turning their gazes on me. I suddenly feel like I'm being interrogated. They might as well shine a bright light in my eyes and then me with the Cruciatus Curse. "Oh I'm so excited!"

What? Now I'm really confused. Even more so than normal. I swallow my mouthful. "Excited?"

"Yes! You haven't had a crush on anyone since like fourth year!" She claps her hands together, practically jumping up in her seat. Nevaeh giggles. "You and Liam will be so cute together!"

Oh god no. I know where this is going. If I wasn't sure she'd catch me, I'd do a runner. "Oh no, no, no. I don't want a boyfriend,"

"You only say that because you've never had one," Mads scolds me with another wave of her drumstick, pointing it to the enchanted ceiling. "And I swear to Merlin, you will have one!"

I whinge. "But Mads,"

"Are you saying you _don't _want to date Liam Creevey? Are you saying I'm _really _wrong about you liking him?" She looks me straight in the eye, practically staring straight into my soul. It's pretty unsettling. I'm really considering running for it. I could stun her first; it'd give me a good head start.

"Okay, fine," I groan, shoulders slumping forward as I blow my burgundy bangs out my eyes with a sigh of defeat. She's the most persistent bugger when she puts her mind to something. "Maybe I wouldn't protest to dating Liam. Maybe."

"I knew it!" She pumps her fists into the air, grinning so wide her eyes squint.

"How?"

"I don't know, it's just a gift, a sixth sense," she beams. "Just like I know that on some level Nevaeh enjoys being around James. And on some level, she likes him just a little bit."

Nevaeh chokes on her pumpkin juice. "I enjoy being around James as a friend. Please don't encourage him with things like that,"

As Mads continues to pester her with James' supposedly undying love, I steal one more glance at the four sitting at the Gryffindor table. They're chatting animatedly, chortling and throwing scraps of food at one another. I wonder what they're talking about. I wonder if they ever talk about girls like this, like a bunch of plonkers. Oh bloody hell, I hope not.


	5. Chapter Four, Toby & Millie

_Author's Note: _Feels like I haven't updated this in forever although it's only been like a week. xD Oh well. ^^ Here's another chapter, a bit of Toby for you. :D Kind of short but I enjoyed writing it, just some light-hearted silliness.

* * *

_**A Harry Potter Fanfiction**_

_**MADHEADS ARE FROM MERCURY**_

* * *

**CHAPTER FOUR**

**TOBY & MILLIE**

* * *

"Fuck," I groan.

Finally I've reached the seventh floor, arms dangling at my sides and legs like jelly. Most of the castle is tucked away in bed by now and I have been patrolling the halls with equally unenthusiastic prefects. Being Head Boy has been pretty shit so far.

"Watch your language!" the Fat Lady shouts shrilly, waving a meaty arm at me. "That's no way for a Head Boy to speak!"

"Sorry," I mutter, blowing shaggy brown tangles out of my eyes with a frown. "Butter worms,"

She glares, reluctantly peeling back and revealing the passage behind her. I bow before slipping into the Gryffindor common room. The circular room is filled with scarlet tapestries, plump armchairs and dark oak tables, all framing the large fireplace dominating one wall. The fire burns low, reduced to warm embers with not a single body dotted around it.

I take a quick glance over the common room for any stray students; I'll get the biggest fucking earful from the Head Girl if I don't. Despite being a tiny Ravenclaw–and I mean _tiny, _I could fit her in my pocket–she is the most unbelievably shrill and uptight person I have ever met. And that includes my very traditional and very snobby maternal grandmother. Plus her voice makes my ears bleed; it is so nasal I can't believe it's not a joke.

Deducing that no student is hiding behind an armchair or under a table, I head up one of the spiral staircases to the boys dormitories. Like some cruel joke from a very heartless god, my dorm room is right at the top of the stairs. Once I've made it up the stairs, I kick the door open with one swift movement. It's worth the energy just to hear the door slam into the wall with a satisfying smack.

Heat swarms over me immediately, radiating from the stove sitting in the middle of the room, burning bright and illuminating my trio of fellow seventh years. Liam is sitting on his four-poster bed, enchanted muggle camera in his hands. His nimble fingers fiddle with the cogs and film as he shakes his dirty blonde mop out his narrowed eyes, concentrating hard. He's slung a crimson blanket over his shoulders, hiding his plaid pyjamas. In the next bed is Aidan, stretched out and lying back, his arms tucked behind his head as he stares at the ceiling. As per usual, he's stripped off his shirt and is left in only a pair of slacks. The Irishman is practically allergic to modesty. Then closest to me is James, sitting on the window sill with his legs propped up and knees bent. Wand pointed at the water-filled jug by his feet, he keeps muttering charms and grinning at the successful result.

"Nice to know you're all doing something productive," I mock, pressing the door shut behind me. I crouch by my drunk and immediately begin digging for anything more comfortable than my uniform.

"We just don't know what to do without you," Aidan grins from his bed, not breaking away from the ceiling. "What took so bloody long?"

"I had to assign halls to each prefect, then patrol my own halls and then meet with each prefect to make sure everything came up clear, then dismiss each prefect,"

James glances my way, eyebrows arched. "Couldn't you just come fuck around for a while and pretend you did all that?"

"You think psychotic Sally would let me do that?" The three all shudder at the mention of the Head Girl. It's a sentiment I have to agree with.

"She scares the living daylights out of me," Liam pipes as he leans across his bed to retrieve Rupert from his bedside table, the bloated toad happily complying. The blighter loves attention and would probably crawl into bed with Liam if he could.

Aidan snickers. "All women scare you,"

"Fuck off," I swoop to Liam's defence after pulling on a plain tee and loose shorts, something to substitute my usual sleepwear–boxers. "Not all of us try to disrobe every girl we meet. You're the reason guys get such bad press."

"Girls love it, trust me. Why do you think I've had so many girlfriends and Lee hasn't even kissed a girl?"

"Company you pay for doesn't count as a girlfriend," James corrects with a smirk.

"Don't get me started on you, James. You've been after Longbottom for years and had about as much success as a muggle with magic,"

"Nevaeh has feelings for me somewhere, she just hasn't realised it yet,"

"Somewhere under many layers of contempt," I grin.

"Yes, exactly. I just need to get through all those layers and she'll be mine,"

Liam chuckles, smiling gently. "Good luck,"

"Lee, you're meant to be on my side," James throws his arms in the air and hops down from the window. It's hard to believe someone so dramatic came from the famous Harry Potter who managed to deal with fame and his own mortality with maturity and level-headedness. His younger brother Albus seems to have inherited all the calm and collected traits whilst James just went bloody bonkers. "Eternal love, it doesn't matter how many girls you have been with so long as you are with someone you care about and all that crap."

"He doesn't believe that, he's just too shy to join me," Aidan corrects, poking his tongue out despite still facing the ceiling.

"What? No, I'll never go over to the dark side,"

"Good on you, Lee. You and I'll show Finnigan when we're married to beautiful women in the next decade and he's that creepy old wizard that girls scream at and run from,"

"What about Toby?"

"I'll be waiting with open arms for the girls running from Aidan," I wiggle my eyebrows as I slouch into bed, smirking.

"You guys are assholes," Aidan growls but he doesn't mean it. We always gang up on each other; such is the dynamic of a quartet. Admittedly we gang up on Aidan more so than anyone else, but he has it coming most of the time. The guy's a nob. A nob who is our best friend but a nob nonetheless.

"So did Nevaeh say anything about me on prefect duty tonight?" James interrupts my thoughts as he climbs into bed, tugging off his clothes under the privacy of his duvet.

Aidan snorts as James shoots him a death glare. "You mean apart from 'why is James watching me from behind that corner with his hands down his trousers'?"

"Why would she say anything?" I ask curiously although I'm hardly surprised by his answer.

"What? Why _wouldn't _she say anything? You're Head Boy now! You're meant to be my wingman here," James exclaims exasperated, gesturing wildly. "You're spending shitloads of time with her now, you should be slipping me into conversation whenever you can. Like this 'oh hey Nevaeh, sorry I'm late. James was just helping me with my Potions essay, he's such a generous soul,' or 'oh you like that? James loves it too, you guys really have a lot in common,' or my personal favourite; 'speaking of attractive men, did you know James not only has a hot Quidditch boy but he looks even better naked than he does clothed?'"

"You know if I say all that she's going to think I want to date you, not that she does,"

He grabs his heart with mock offense. "Are you saying you don't want to date me? I'm heartbroken,"

"You know what you _really_ should be doing on Head Boy duty," Aidan bolts upright, grinning and shamrock eyes narrowed. "Getting to know that Slytherin prefect in sixth year, Millicent Goyle."

"Millie, she prefers Millie," I note. "She shouted at me when I called her Millicent."

"Who cares? Have you seen her?" He cups his hands in front of his chest, mimicking her large tits. "I mean c'mon."

I nod. "The man does have a point,"

"Since when does Aidan ever have a point?" Liam asks as he tilts his camera over Rupert, taking snapshots of the diva toad from every angle.

"You'll agree if you see her," I mirror Aidan's breast miming with a grin. "It's hard to believe she's only sixteen."

"I think I'm more of an ass man myself," James speaks up, rubbing his chin as he purses his lips. "Nevaeh might not have huge tits like the Goyle girl, but her ass is pretty sweet."

I frown. "You realise I've known her since the day she was born, right? She's practically my sister and hearing you talk about her like that, it's a little creepy,"

"We could always talk about your actual sister, she's got pretty nice tits too," Aidan taunts. "And don't get me started on her ass."

"I can kill you with my thumb," I glower, fury bubbling up inside of me as my protective brother gland kicks into high gear. "You stay as far away from my sister as humanly possible or I will not hesitate to murder you slowly and painfully."

"I'll die a happy death if it's with Desdemona,"

"You're really pushing your luck, Finnigan,"

"And Lee's got first dibs on her anyway," James adds.

"What? Since when does anyone have dibs on my sister?"

Liam quickly looks up from his photo-shoot, cheeks bright red and eyes wide. "I don't have dibs on anyone. He's just being an idiot,"

"Oh come on, she's just about the only girl you can talk to. Besides who would you prefer going after your sister, Lee or a guy like Aidan?"

"Fair point," I nod with a shrug. "Lee's now the only one allowed within a foot of my sister."

"I can't guarantee anything," Aidan teases. "If I can't get Madeleine, I might need someone to comfort me. But don't worry about your sister, you just focus on Goyle, one of us has got to fuck that."

* * *

An hour, a whole hour I have just spent alone with him. I still can't believe it. A whole hour where Noelle wasn't there to judge or sneer at him, a whole hour where I could just talk to him without spectators. Except I couldn't do that. My voice vanished as soon as he turned my way. All I managed to do was nod, shake my head and snap at him when he called me by my dreaded full name. I _hate _my name with the fiery passion of a thousand suns. Every time he looked at me over that hour I felt butterflies surge inside my stomach. I thought I was going to throw up right there and then. It was the most horrible feeling I've ever experienced. And somehow I loved every minute spent at his side.

But I can fix this, I'm a Slytherin; we are cunning and resourceful. We'll spend more evenings together, after all I'm a prefect and now he's Head Boy. Not that I actually _want _to spend time with him. No, of course not. I just want to make the best out of a bad situation. That's a lie. It's an amazing situation.

"Hello? Millie? Are you even listening to me?" Noelle shrieks, interrupting my thoughts as she glares at me from across our dorm. The other two girls–Priscilla Parkinson and Tabitha Higgs–we share with watch intently, not daring to say a word. "What the fuck is wrong with you today?"

"Shut up and calm the hell down," I snap, frowning as I narrow my chocolate brown eyes into a glare. Tabitha gasps as Priscilla rolls her beady eyes. "Not everything is about you."

"Someone sprinkled a little too much bitch on their porridge this morning," Noelle sneers, running her fingers through her dark brown hair.

"Someone is a little fed up with all your screaming,"

"Look all I wanted was your opinion on something, I didn't know you were going to fucking flip at me," she sticks her nose in the air and turns from me. Once again it's my turn to be the mature one.

"Fine, what do you want my opinion on?"

After a few moments of sulking, she turns to be with a smug grin and gestures to her body. "This,"

She is dressed in a dark chemise that moulds to her curvaceous figure, lined with finely cut black lace. She pulls her hair up into a loose bun before twirling to show me the back. She looks like she belongs on a street corner, not in a Slytherin dorm room. Priscilla and Tabitha clap enthusiastically.

"You look gorgey," Tabitha grins. "Scorpius will drool all over you."

"Forget that prick, you're way too good for him," Priscilla waves him off with a frown. I scoff under my breath. She only says that because he broke her heart in fourth year. She should have seen it coming, what else does she expect from a complete imbecile?

"Well I want him so I'll be getting him," Noelle hisses before smiling sweetly at me. "Millie?"

"You look like a hooker," I mumble before laughing with a shake of my head. "And I guess an idiot like Malfoy can never resist that."

"Oh look at you, someone might think you just complimented me," she teases with a grin.

"That doesn't sound like me," I half-smile.

She scurries back to Tabitha and Priscilla, the three breaking into girlish whispers as she slips into another outfit. Despite their clear lack of intelligence, I'm pretty grateful for the two Slytherin girls. They give Noelle someone to discuss boys with in high-pitched giggles and scandalous gasps. It's like her own personal pantomime with her as the only act. And she loves it that way. Noelle always has needed attention. That's probably why we have been friends since first year; I always shrug off attention and she happily picks it up. I wonder if Tobias likes attention. I bet he doesn't. He really doesn't seem like it, he seems really grounded even as Head Boy.

I shake my head before snatching a book from the pile on my bedside table. I peel it open to the bookmarked page and dive into the prose, hoping to wipe Tobias right out of my thoughts. But the attempt is futile. I get about three pages read before he creeps back in. If Noelle could read my mind right now, she would hit the ceiling. Anyone is be better than a Gryffindor in her eyes. Maybe even a Hufflepuff.

Tobias' younger sister is in Hufflepuff, I have seen her around in a few classes. I wonder if we have any classes together this year; we've had Potions with the Hufflepuffs since first year. Maybe if she is taking Potions, I can speak to her if Noelle isn't watching me like a hawk. Maybe I can get closer to Tobias through her, or at least I can try to understand him. Maybe she can help me communicate with him. Except I can't tell her about my feelings, that would be horrific. I'd rather just continue the way things are than confide in a Hufflepuff.

"So Scorpius spoke to Brayden at dinner," Noelle grins my way, eyes glinting mischievously. "He thinks you're pretty fit."

"Wonderful," I grumble, burying my face in the book and pretending to read. I know this won't stop her though.

She squeals, ignoring my sarcasm. "You guys will be so cute together. And we can double date,"

"Brayden and Millie are definitely a good couple," Tabitha pipes with a wide and probably fake smile. "You have such a good eye for these things, Noelle. Maybe you can set me up!"

I glance their way and mutter with a deadpan expression. "You can have Zabini if you want,"


	6. Chapter Five, Desdemona

_Author's Note: _This was a fun chapter. xD I was really excited to get it out. (: Mads and Craig, I just love their relationship and her friends' reactions. They're so ridiculous and fun. And I love Liam, thank you so much EmodinosaurX3 AGAIN for making him! I could just hug him forever. xD Sorry the chapter is a bit on the short side but oh well. Hopefully it's alright. ^^

* * *

**CHAPTER FIVE**

**DESDEMONA**

* * *

"Nevaeh is such an amazing singer," Mads beams through her mouthful of breakfast before swallowing it down with pumpkin juice. "Do you think she'll get a solo this year? She totally deserves one."

I stuff my face with porridge before following her gaze down the hall to where Nevaeh is standing. Her frog, Trevor, is cradled in her arms as she sings in harmony with The Frog Choir. But despite singing all together, all eyes narrow in on her. She just stands out, it's like the choir is surrounding her, harmonising _with _her. I'm probably biased though. I bloody love that girl.

"'Course she will, she's bloody brilliant," I grin proudly. If she doesn't, I'll have to kill the person who took the solo she deserves.

Mads looks back at me over the rims of her glasses. "You excited for Potions?"

"Well we'll share it with those numpties from Slytherin," I shrug with a grin. "But I love Slughorn, he looks like someone's drawn a face on an egg."

She chokes on her juice, snickering. "Holy bananas! He _so _does!"

We giggle as we wolf down the rest of our breakfasts. We even grab a hard-boiled egg and draw a smiley face on the shell along with Professor Slughorn's thick moustache and velvet robes. I nearly laugh until I cry. We're such trollops. Nevaeh finishes up with the choir and scurries over to us, small smile on her scarlet lips.

"Hi you two," she chimes as she tenderly takes a croissant from one of the baskets. "How are you this morning?"

"I'm fantastic," Mads grins widely.

"Hey look," I grab our egg, presenting it to Nevaeh. "We made Slughorn!"

She stares at it for a second, chocolate brown eyes narrowing. Then a giggle breaks from her lips as they spread into a grin. "That's adorable!"

"I knew there was a reason why I love you so much,"

"I love you for hundreds of reasons, way more than Dessie," Mads adds.

Nevaeh shakes her head, platinum curls bouncing around her ears. "You two are so daft,"

"It's because we love you so much," I blow her a kiss. "It drives us crazy."

"Not as crazy as it drives Potter, he's bloody barmy. All thanks to you, you little minx,"

"Mads!" She squeals, cheeks colouring rose as she picks at her croissant.

"What? It's true!"

"Dessie, please stop her,"

"Sorry, but she kind of has a point. He's head over heels for you and you don't help but always looking so gorgey,"

She hides her face in her hands. "But I don't encourage it,"

Our teasing doesn't last long as a brawny figure swanning from the Ravenclaw table interrupts us. Attractive, neatly combed dark hair, light brown eyes, a few freckles and hints of Chinese ancestry; that'd be Mads' boyfriend. Craig Chang, head of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team and in the top tier of our year, he's quite the catch. And Mads is pretty proud of that.

He leans over her as she bends back, planting a kiss on her lips. I make gagging noises and she throws a roll at me. Thankfully the tosser misses, as her face is otherwise preoccupied with snogging. Nevaeh blushes more. She's not great with public displays of affection.

"How's my Maddy today?" He coos.

"I'm wonderful thank you, how are you?" She murmurs.

"Sad that I won't see you until Divination,"

"Aren't you sweet?" She kisses his nose before dragging him back into a snog.

"Quick, Nevaeh, poke my eyes out with a fork!" I cry, throwing my hands in the air dramatically. Nevaeh giggles, her embarrassment evaporating as it always does when I act like a twat.

"Ignore her," Mads soothes, kissing him one last time. "Be brilliant today, Craig."

"I always am when I've got you around," he smiles.

I snicker. "I'm going to vomit,"

"I'd better go. Have fun in Potions," he laughs and waves at us. "Bye Desdemona, bye Nevaeh."

Mads watches as he reaches the end of the hall and glances back. She stands up and screams at the top of her lungs.

"I love you!"

All eyes dart from her to him and their very public relationship.

"I love you too!" He shouts back.

I lean towards Nevaeh, deadpan expression. "Who knew Mads could make Chang into such a plonker? She must be contagious,"

* * *

"Thank god that's over!" Mads groans as we pour out the Potions classroom. She blows her thick fringe out her eyes before pointing at me sharply. "I couldn't stop imagining Slughorn as an egg thanks to you."

I spread my lips into a toothy grin. "I love you too, darling."

"At least you have Divination with Craig now," Nevaeh pipes with a supportive smile, hugging her textbooks to her chest.

"See, right there, that's why we're friends!"

"Thanks Mads," she giggles with a shake of her head.

"I'd best get going then, got my sexy man waiting for me,"

Mads winks before tugging us into one-armed hugs. Then with a squeal, she skips off merrily, robes billowing behind her. She's completely bonkers that one. Nevaeh turns to face me. Her is wide smile wide and her eyes sparkle with excitement.

"I should get going, I don't want to be late to Care of Magical Creatures," she combs a stray curl behind her ear although it just springs back. "What are you doing for your free period?"

"I think I'll just go for a walk. Toby said he's usually at the lake during free periods so maybe I'll pop down,"

"That's a great idea. I'll see you in Herbology,"

We hug quickly before she scurries off, eager to get to class as soon as possible. Nevaeh hates being late. Missing class notes is like her biggest fear. I don't even know why. She's one of the smartest people I know, magical or muggle. She'll probably be Head Girl next year with all the hard work and extracurricular activities she does.

I march out into the midday sun, a slight breeze blowing my auburn layers into my face. Combing them back, I narrow my grey eyes and scan the grassy hills. Several students are scattered about, either just hanging during free period or heading to their next class. I look over to the lake, searching for somewhere to lounge in the September sun for the next hour.

And that's when I see him. He's crouched by the lake, tall and slim figure wrapped in loose Gryffindor robes. His light brown hair falls shaggily around his face, his big brown eyes hidden behind his vintage camera. He twists to and fro, taking photos of everything around him. His photography is amazing. _He _is amazing. And so bloody cute, so cute it kind of makes me want to cry.

I take a deep breath and run my fingers through my hair, ruffling it about my fair face. I don't know why I feel so nervous. I feel like someone has just punched me in the stomach. And then reached up into my chest and grabbed my heart and proceeded to shake it around like a maraca. It really is not a pleasant feeling. Smoothing out my robes, I swallow my nerves and trudge over.

"Hey Liam," my voice comes out all squeaky and unsure.

He jumps, startled and nearly drops his camera. I want to bang my head against a wall. I just scared the crap out of him when I was trying to be nice. I'm so bad at this. I force out a nervous laugh.

"Sorry, I-I didn't mean to startle you,"

"That's okay," he smiles, warm eyes glancing up to meet my gaze. "I just wasn't paying attention."

"Too busy in the photography zone?"

"Something like that,"

We chuckle and I shift my weight from foot to foot. "Is it okay if I sit down?"

"Of course,"

I fall beside him, propping my knees up and drawing them to my chest. I just feel small for some reason. I feel nervous and timid. Which is pretty weird for me. I'm pretty loud and ridiculous. Just ask Toby. He'll vouch for me. I twist the end of the robes around my fingers as Liam fiddles with his camera.

"Get any good photos?"

"I hope so,"

"I mean all your photos are great but–well–I just–" Oh someone just beat me around the head with my wand, put me out of my misery.

He smiles. "Thanks, I didn't know you thought they were great,"

"Well, they are,"

"Maybe I can try taking photos of you some day," he pauses, eyes wide as he breaks away from his camera. "I-I mean like if-if you want. We don't ha-have to, just forget-just forget I said anything."

I smile widely, hugging my knees as I rest my head on them. "I'd love to,"

"Really?"

"Yeah, it'd be really fun. And you're fantastic with a camera,"

His voice drops as he stares at his camera. He just gets cuter. "Thanks, that's really nice,"

"It's the truth," I place my hand on his gently, my face heating up. God I hope I'm not blushing. "And I'm really excited to be on the other side of your camera."

He looks up slowly, eyes creeping up to mine. But just as we exchange smiles, an obnoxious shout interrupts.

"Hey buggers! What're you doing out here?" I swear I'm going to murder Aidan Finnigan. We jump apart as Aidan bounds down between us, smirking. "Or am I interrupting something?"

"Shut up, that's my sister you're talking about," Toby hisses, slapping him around the head as he flops down beside me. James follows moments later, also slapping Aidan with a smirk.

"Why're you slapping me? I didn't say anything about Lily!"

"I just wanted to hit you," he grins with a chuckle. "And you were probably thinking something disgusting about my sister."

"Fuck you guys, all of you guys,"

"No thank you," I add, scrunching my face up. "I'd rather take a broom to the gut."

"Ouch, harsh words. Me thinks the lady doth protest too much," he replies in singsong, smirk growing as he wiggles his eyebrows.

"Finnigan! My sister. Never going to happen. Stop it now."

"You can't cock block me forever,"

I lean over to Toby, speaking in a loud and exaggerate whisper. "Don't worry, I'd never go there,"

"Don't say that–"

"Just drop it," Liam interrupts quickly, eyes narrowing as he fumbles with his camera. "She said she wasn't interested."

"Lighten up, Lee. I'm only joking,"

"Well it's bloody creepy," I chime in, looking passed him to smile at Liam. "Thanks Liam, at least someone can talk sense into this numptie."

He returns my smile as he glances at me before quickly returning to his camera. My insides twist and turn like I've swallowed a handful of butterflies. My heart is beating violently against my chest, drowning out the banter the Gryffindors are exchanging. All I can hear is my raging pulse as I watch Liam out the corner of my eye. All I can feel is a flutter spreading to my heart and making my chest feel hollow.

I don't understand where this is all coming. I don't understand this urge to faint every time I'm around him, this feeling like my heart is beating so heart it may just stop. I've known Liam for ages, ever since Toby met him in first year and he came to visit over the summer. And I've never felt this before. I'm actually worried for my health. What if I'm dying? Or have I just gone full on and completely bonkers once and for all? I just hate it. I just want it to stop. Except a tiny part of me, a teeny tiny part might just like it.

But only an itsy bitsy part.


	7. Chapter Six, Desdemona & Toby

_Author's Note: _Wehey, got another chapter posted! I feel like I've been neglecting this story. xD Not updating as much as I can. Plus it feels like forever since I last updated this. But here we go, chapter six is ready to go. :3 A chapter with some ridiculous thoughts from my favourite siblings.

* * *

**CHAPTER SIX**

**DESDEMONA & TOBY**

* * *

The library is buzzing, students dotted about the various desks and rows of bookshelves. More and more are pouring in after finishing their dinner in the Great Hall. That's why Nevaeh made sure we got here early. We wolfed down our food and then raced up here. She got us a table in the back and collected just about every book she could find. The frail and elderly librarian is scuttling about and snarling at everyone to keep it down. She looks and sounds like a sodding vulture. No one really listens though; it's too busy for her to control.

Although we're usually in the library to study, today we're here for an entirely different reason: my biological parents. I'm so grateful for Nevaeh, she's just bloody brilliant. I wrote to her right after my parents told me I'm adopted and she's been nothing but supportive. She's comforted me, cuddled me and promised to help me find the truth no matter what. And she thinks the best place to start is in the library.

She says the best way to find out who my biological parents are is either through a potion or a charm. But Hogwarts doesn't exactly teach this sort of stuff in class. She says we can research, look up the best ways to find out. She has a few ideas already, such as exploring the memories and origin of the Captain badge. But she also said there may be other easier and more effective ways. So the library seems to be our best bet right now.

"Here you go little ladies," Craig says when he reaches us. His arms are filled with ginormous books. He sets them down in front of Nevaeh, grinning widely. "Need anything else?"

"No thank you," she replies cheerfully, curls bouncing as she shakes her head. "We really appreciate your help."

"I hope so," he grins at Mads and takes hold of her hand, lacing their fingers together. She sits across from Nevaeh, smiling widely and bright blue eyes sparkling behind her rectangular framed glasses. "Do I get a special treat for being such a good boyfriend?"

"Well you helped us find all the books we need _and _carried them so I'd say yes," she giggles. He lifts her hand and plants a kiss on it.

"Shall we?"

She stares at him with a goofy smile for a few seconds, drowning in his eyes. The girl's a complete numptie when it comes to Craig. The outside world might as well not exist anymore.

She sighs and drops her gaze, disappointed. "Oh, I-I should stay and help out,"

"You can go," I pipe up with a smile. "Nevaeh and I can power through, I'm a pretty fast reader and we all know how much of a smarty pants she is."

"Are you sure?"

She can't even bite back her toothy grin, giddy with excitement. Part of me is happy for her to spend time with him. Craig's a great guy and I'd consider him a friend, he is always happy to help out anyone Mads cares about. And the other part just wants them to leave so I don't have to watch them snogging. I only just ate.

I snigger. "Just go, you wally,"

"Thank you!" She squeals and jumps up, ignoring the death glare the librarian shoots her way. "Goodbye my lovelies! Good luck!"

They scurry out the library entwined in each other's arms. I may not be experienced with boys–I'm about as bloody experienced as a banana–but they are ridiculously open and public. Not many couples here are anywhere near as public as those two tossers are. It's like they've got each other's names tattooed on their foreheads. Who knows maybe in a few years time they _actually _will.

"Those two," Nevaeh chuckles as she lays out the books before picking up the nearest one and peeling it open. I follow her lead. "They're so sweet."

I grin. "They're both ninnies. But they're two ninnes who'll be together forever,"

"It must be nice," she muses, deep chocolate eyes falling to the page.

"What?"

"Having someone like that, a serious boyfriend."

"Oh, is your biological clock ticking?" I tease and she smiles gently.

"Not quite. But it must be really comforting and wonderful to have something so romantic but also long-term at our age. I've had a boyfriend before and not like those two,"

"And I've got just about nought experience," I laugh and flick a few auburn tangles out my eyes. "Maybe I should start a club for awkward twats."

"Don't be silly," she beams with a shake of her head. "You aren't anything like that."

"Hey, even if I am, I'm still awesome," I joke.

"You are and you're a wonderful friend,"

"What's brought this all on?" I raise an eyebrow at her. "I love the compliments but why all the boy talk? Isn't that Mads' gimmick?"

"Well, you-you have a crush, right?"

"What? Not you too!" I groan dramatically.

"I've known you since we were little," she looks up from her book with a toothy smile, showing her pearly whites. "I know when something is a little off."

"How? I haven't done anything,"

She snickers softly. "Well I did also see you and Liam at the lake on the way to Care of Magical Creatures,"

My eyes widen to the size of dinner plates and I'm pretty sure I've just gone bright bloody red. I don't know why. When I've had crushes in the past, I've always told her. Mads is the one I usually hesitate around, she just gets so excited like a complete plonker. But maybe this is because I totally don't have a crush on him. Except maybe a little bit, just a teeny tiny bit.

I bury my face in my hands. "Don't tell Mads. She'll go bloody bananas,"

"She can be a bit overenthusiastic. But I'd never tell her anything without your permission though, it's not my place,"

"Thanks," I lift away from my hands, ashen eyes looking up at her as she looks as genuine as always. "What-what do you think? Like of Liam? I just-I guess I kind of like him…"

"That's very sweet," her smile grows slightly. "And he's always been very sweet, the only one of those four who isn't so loud and rowdy."

"You mean loud and rowdy like me?"

We share a laugh. "Just a little bit,"

"But maybe he isn't interested in being with someone _this _barmy," I gesture up and down myself with a frown. "I mean why would he? He's not like that."

"I don't know but I guess there's only one way to find out,"

"No bloody way!" I throw my arms in the air and furiously shake my head. "I'm not doing _that_! Have you gone completely bonkers? I'll sound like James when he professes his love for you all the bleeding time! No way, not on your life!"

* * *

"Curfew's in effect, best get back to your dorms or at least find a better hiding place,"

I interrupt the two fifth years snogging behind the gargoyle statue, uniforms ruffled and hands roaming. They jump apart, mouths hanging open and eyes wide. The redheaded girl looks like she's about to faint. The boy hides a smirk behind a mask of fake fear. He's probably proud he's got a witness to his late night make out. Lucky I'm not a teacher or they'd be on the ass end of a very condescending lecture–Aidan gets them about twice a week.

"I'm-I'm so s-sorry sir!" The girl squeaks, hands shaking as she tries to smooth out her uniform. She climbs to her feet and bows her head. "We'll g-go straight away, we-we didn't realise!"

The boy follows her lead, buttoning up his shirt as he stands up alongside her. He's not even hiding his smirk anymore, just grinning like a twat. He might as well have a bullhorn and a parade. The girl's either too terrified to notice or she'll give him a bollocking when they get back to their common room. He won't be smirking for long. Poor sod.

"Just run along before any teachers catch you," I wave them off.

The girl sighs. "Of course!"

She grabs the boy's hand and drags him off, darting at top speed. He just stares at her, bewildered but letting her take him. He'd probably let her do anything after she let him fondle her. I know I did when I was fifteen. And sixteen. Maybe even now at seventeen–if the girl's really fucking fit.

And speaking of fit girls, when the couple disappear I turn round with a shake of my head and a chuckle. Millie Goyle is standing there, eyebrows arched and plump lips pursed. Huge tits–inadvertently emphasised by her arms folding over her chest–with a slim waist and nice hips, not to mention wavy black hair, dark eyes and a beauty mark above her lips. She's bloody gorgeous. Fuck.

At least one perk of being Head Boy is getting to check out her curves as a Slytherin prefect. She looks just as good in front of me as she does walking away. She's got one bloody nice ass on her. Aidan reminds me of that whenever I get back from any Head Boy duty. He hasn't quite master subtlety yet.

"I've finished all my hall checks," she says with a pout. "Can I just go already?"

When I meet her eyes, her gaze drops straight to the floor and focuses on her boots. Her long lashes brush over her cheeks, presumably padded with a peachy blush, as the rest of her is pretty pale. I like it though; she's not sickly pale. Her skin isn't sunken or shallow. Instead it's more porcelain, like a fucking fit china doll. I wouldn't turn down a chance to see what's under her robes. They don't do her outrageous body justice.

"You almost sound like you're not having fun," I taunt with a smirk. "Which I _know _can't be true, who wouldn't enjoy this?"

"Whatever. Am I done or not?" She snaps.

I'd be taken aback if she hadn't done this every time I've spoken to her in the past. She counters anything nice or pleasant with something rude and snippy. All the flip-flopping made my head spin my first night as Head Boy. I thought I'd fallen down the rabbit hole; she's just bloody barmy. Like she's got a split personality. It's actually kind of hot on a barking mad level.

"Why don't you help me finish my rounds? Chip in a few extra minutes with the boss man," I flash her a smile, letting her rudeness slide right off. I'm definitely used to it by now.

"Is that an order or do I actually have a choice?"

"Which gets you to say yes?"

A small smile forms on her lips. "Why don't you try one and see?"

"Well you've backed me into quite the corner. Can I have a few minutes to think about it?" She nods slowly, brow furrowing in confusion. "Do you want to walk with me as I think?"

"Isn't that the same as helping you with your patrols?"

"Not if you just walk and chat," I smirk and start walking. "But pretty much, yes."

She falls in step with me, arms still folded over her chest like she's sulking. I'm not sure if she's just humouring me because I'm Head Boy or actually enjoys my company. I'm not sure if I actually want to know. I like the uncertainty. I like being kept on my toes, stops boredom from setting in.

"How're you finding sixth year?" I ask after a few minutes of stiff silence. It's weird being around someone you have to prod into talking. My friends and sister just ramble on. Even Nevaeh is comfortable enough around me to chat freely. I've never had to goad anything out of her or anyone else.

"It's fine,"

"Easy, hard, somewhere in the middle?"

She shrugs. "Fairly easy but I'm doing quite a few N.E.W.T.-level classes,"

"So you probably won't feel that way end of seventh year,"

"Maybe," she shrugs again but with a little smug smirk forming. "But I doubt it, I'm in the year's top tier of wizard. I could out duel any of my classmates or yours."

"That's big talk," I chuckle.

"Get your wand out if you don't believe me. I'd be happy to put the Head Boy in his place,"

Her smirk spreads into a full smile. It seems I've found a way to get her talking.

"Oh no, I wouldn't dare take on your wrath. I'd rather keep my limbs attached,"

"Good answer,"

"Thanks," We've reached the end of my corridor and the end of my otherwise very bloody boring and long patrol. Tapping my badge, I turn to her with a toothy grin. "I don't get to wear this for nothing."

"Right," she rolls her eyes. "Am I free to go?"

It's my turn to smirk. "You always were. You just chose to stay, not that I blame you."


End file.
